


The Fireplace

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [64]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fireplaces, Naked Female Clothed Male, Older Woman/Younger Man, Panty Removal Recommended..., Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond and M enjoy the benefits of a real fireplace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fireplace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts).



> Tayryn gave me the central idea for this fic - my Muse just ran away with it (typically!)  
> No spoilers - this fic is set after QoS and before Skyfall, following the presumed death of M's husband.

A tiny corner of M is appalled at her current situation. Not because she's ashamed of wanting this – it may be only three months since Reg passed away, but he'd been so ill during the eighteen months preceding his death that she hasn't been touched by anyone for nearly two years. No, she's appalled because she knows she shouldn't be doing this with him: for the head of the Secret Intelligence Service to be fraternising (she suppresses a snort at that word) with one of her Double-0 agents is the height of iniquity. But there's only a tiny part of her that's appalled at what she's doing – the rest of her is eager and excited, no exhilarated, to have the notoriously sexy James Bond finger-fucking her on the rug before her fireplace.

His mouth is on one of her breasts as she lies naked and at his mercy; two of his fingers are thrusting in and out of her hot, slick pussy, while his thumb works on her clit. He is still wearing his trousers, but had shed the rest of his clothes before he'd given in to his desire to have his hands on her body.

As she feels her orgasm approaching, M tries to remember just how she ended up in this position…

**An hour ago**

M allowed Bond to help her into her coat and tried not to shiver as his fingers brushed against the nape of her neck as he straightened her collar. The evening had been both tedious and tiring, just as she'd expected, but the PM had insisted that she must attend this shindig for the visiting Americans, and since her usual bodyguard was off sick with the influenza, Tanner had given the task of playing escort to Bond. She didn't mind appearing on Bond's arm, of course – no woman could possibly object to having such a fit, well-muscled man at her side – but she had been worried that if he got too bored, he'd get into mischief. Fortunately, he'd been discretion itself, and she had a fleeting thought that she ought to reward him for being on his best behaviour.

He offered her his arm and led her across the pavement to her waiting car, then climbed in beside her, and she was suddenly, powerfully aware of him as a masculine animal, rather than just Bond. The surge of arousal that swept through her in the wake of that thought was so potent that she had to bite her bottom lip so that she wouldn't moan; she felt dizzy with her sudden desire, and she was glad that she was sitting down.

When the car pulled into her parking spot, M felt considerable relief, although that was mitigated by the fact that Bond obviously intended to take his role as bodyguard very seriously as he escorted her to the lift. She bit her lip again, part of her wanting to send him away, but most of her wanting to grab him and kiss him senseless.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" His quiet-voiced enquiry distracted her from cataloguing her body's response to his presence in the small lift car: her nipples were stiff beneath the silk of her bra, and although she was no longer young, her pussy was nevertheless throbbing and growing damp.

"Fine," she answered, aware that she couldn't look at him in case he saw the lust in her eyes and was disgusted by it.

"Did I do something wrong this evening?"

His question surprised her, and she all but gaped up at him as the lift announced their arrival and the doors opened.

"No, Mr Bond. You did nothing wrong." The look he gave her was doubtful, and against her better judgement, she heard herself inviting him in for a drink.

He accepted, and followed her out of the lift, and at her gesture, crossed to the sofa to take a seat while she shed her coat and stepped out of her heels. As she went to pour them both a drink, he asked, "Shall I light this for you?" and nodded at the ready-laid fire.

"Yes please."

She carried their drinks across to the coffee table and settled onto the end of the sofa, her back against the arm and her legs stretched out as she watched Bond, noting the way the material of his trousers clung to his tight arse, and registering properly for the first time, just what long fingers he had. 

He turned and caught her staring, and as a blush heated her cheeks, he gave her a very knowing grin.

"Enjoying the view, Olivia?" he asked, and got to his feet.

"Yes, since you ask," she answered, giving him one of her looks.

He smirked, then bent and picked up his glass from the coffee table. "My view of you is also enjoyable," he offered, then bent down to lift her feet so that he could sit right beside her, her legs resting on his thigh.

"James!" she protested, and he smirked again. 

"Olivia?" 

She did her best to glare at him, but it wasn't easy when he began rubbing her aching feet. She knew she ought to send him home, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to say the words since the foot rub was very soothing. She tipped her head, resting it against the sofa back, and her eyes closed despite herself, the better to savour the sensations of his long fingers easing the tension in her muscles.

She had drifted into a light doze when she suddenly registered that Bond's hands were working their way up her left leg. Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him, intending to rebuke him, but there was an expression of longing in his eyes that she was silenced before she spoke. She dropped her gaze from his face to his hands, which were massaging her leg just below her knee; beyond his hands she could see that he was aroused.

She was startled, but also flattered, and she recalled her own earlier arousal. She lifted her other foot and reached forward to cup her stocking-clad toes over the head of his erection, eliciting a groan from him.

"Is that for me, James?" she asked softly.

"Yes ma'am."

"You're a naughty boy," she told him, then grabbed his right wrist and tugged him towards her. "Kiss me."

His blue eyes lit with a gleam of appreciation. "Gladly." He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands, and his mouth met hers firmly. It was M's turn to groan when he teased her lips open with his tongue, and she couldn't help flexing her foot against the bulge swelling out the front of his trousers.

"M, Olivia!"

At the breathless way he said her name she felt a further surge of desire, and she began unbuttoning his shirt as he continued to kiss her. She found his nipple and tweaked it, and he jerked back, breathing heavily.

"You little minx." 

She smirked up at him. "Feel free to reciprocate, James."

He pulled back from her and began undressing, shedding his jacket, tie, and shirt with practised rapidity. "Come here." He got to his feet and pulled her up from the sofa, before dispensing with her jacket, skirt, and then blouse.

"I've wanted to do this for such a long time," he said, his breath tickling her cheek as he leaned in to nuzzle the side of her neck. 

"I confess, I've thought about it myself, once or twice."

His face lit up at her words. "I'm glad to hear it." He unfastened her bra, pulling it free, then tossing it onto the sofa with the rest of her clothing. She moaned when he cupped her tits, his thumbs brushing over her already stiff nipples.

He led her over to the rug in front of the fire, snagging one of the cushions from the sofa in passing.

"You want to do this here?" M asked, slightly doubtfully.

"Yes I do. Unless – " He paused, looking concerned. "Would you rather go to bed?"

She shook her head and reached up to cup his cheek with her right hand. "I think it would be exciting to make love in front of the fire."

He gave a dazzling smile. "Good." He guided her down onto her back, then paused to remove his shoes and socks. 

Then he knelt beside her and cupped her sex through the silk of her knickers, and she gasped as he pressed the fabric between her throbbing pussy lips.

"James!" She reached down to clasp his wrist. "Wait a moment."

He stilled his hand. "What is it, Olivia?"

"I'm an old lady," she said, "specifically, post-menopausal." At his puzzled look, she elaborated. "I don't get very wet, not any more. So you need to use some lube."

He nodded, then got to his feet and she watched as he delved into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, then smirked when he pulled out a small bottle of lube and some condoms.

"When was your last sexual health check?" she asked as he came back to her side and put the stuff on the rug beside her.

"Week before last."

"And were you clean?"

He nodded. "But I don't mind wearing a condom," he told her.

"I'd actually prefer it if you didn't," she said. "If that's all right with you."

He grinned. "It's fine." He eased her knickers off, then gently spread open her thighs, and she moaned when he kissed one thigh, then the other, his breath tickling her pussy, his mouth was so close.

"I'm going to taste you first," he told her, "then I'm going to finger you, then I shall fuck you."

"Oh god!" His mouth was on her skin as soon as he finished speaking, and she clutched at his head as his tongue delved into her pussy.

She soon began to writhe under the onslaught of pleasure that his mouth wrought; never before had any man given her so much satisfaction just by the use of his tongue and teeth on her pussy, and she cried out when an orgasm ripped through her body to leave her trembling in its wake.

"Fuck! Jesus, James, that was – " She trailed off as he lifted his head and moved to lie beside her; his mouth, tasting of her juices, covered hers in a hungry kiss and she clutched the back of his head.

He eventually released her and they caught their breath for a few moments, then he smiled down at her. "I love a responsive woman," he told her. "You're so sexy, so sensual, that it's a great pleasure to pleasure you."

"Flatterer." She felt heat in her cheeks as a result of his words; the look in his eyes was sincere, however.

"No, Olivia, not flattery. It's the truth, pure and simple." He trailed kisses down her throat, then back to her mouth before he grabbed the bottle of lube and applied some to his right hand. As he teased her with the tip of one finger, his mouth found her breast and she groaned loudly as he began to suckle, while easing a second finger into her pussy to begin pleasuring her all over again.

007-007-007

**Now**

M's second orgasm seems just as intense as the first, and she can only lie and wait for her ragged breathing to even out again, and for her limbs to stop trembling. As she's waiting, James gets to his feet and removes his trousers, and she stares avidly at his swollen cock. 

He kneels beside her and applies some lube, then he guides her knees up until they're bent and she's open to him as he moves between her legs.

"Ready?" he asks.

She nods. "Fuck me, James."

He guides the head of his cock to her pussy, rubbing it up and down her slit for a few moments, before beginning to ease inside her.

She hisses as he stretches her, then says, "Don't stop."

He snorts. "No chance," he says, and slides his cock slowly into her as he lowers his body over hers, his arms supporting his weight. 

To her surprise, he leans his head down and kisses her in a leisurely manner; his cock is buried deep inside her and she is sure he must be aching to fuck her and come, and yet he takes the time to kiss her before he begins to rock his hips back and forth. She'd expected him to want a hard, fast fuck – but this more nearly resembles him making love to her, and she finds herself profoundly moved.

He continues rocking slowly, while his mouth lavishes attention on her face and throat, before coming back to her mouth, and it's only when she grabs his arse and pulls him more tightly against her that he groans, then begins to move more quickly.

"Did I mention you're a minx?" he asks, sounding more breathless.

She chuckles as she tightens her inner muscles around his cock, and he groans again.

"Fuck, Olivia." His voice sounds strangled, and she finds herself quietly amused that she can have such an effect on the man who's notorious for his way with women.

"Sorry to hurry you along," she says, "but this floor isn't _that_ comfortable."

He immediately gives her an apologetic look, and begins to thrust more quickly. "Sorry," he says softly. "I should have thought of that."

She shakes her head. "I could have insisted we use the bed."

It doesn't take long, once he picks up speed, to bring her to her third orgasm of the evening, and that is enough to tip him over the edge into his own climax. Her body bucks beneath his as she clenches her muscles around his cock and he spends himself lavishly inside her pussy.

She pulls his head down to kiss him, immensely grateful to him for sharing this with her. "Let's go to bed," she suggests after she releases him.

"Yes." He eases his body away from hers, then scoops up the bottle of lube and passes it to her. She takes it automatically, then utters a squeak of astonishment when he lifts her from the floor and carries her towards the hallway that leads to the rest of her flat.

"James!" She protests with a giggle, and he gives her a cheeky grin as he takes her to her bedroom.

She pushes open the door and he strides inside, then lowers her to the bed. "Come here, you bad boy," she says, and tugs his arm before he can regain his balance, toppling him onto the bed beside her.

"Olivia!" His protest is half-hearted, and she knows it. 

"Stay where you are, Mr Bond," she tells him, and shifts to straddle his thighs. His eyes widen and she smirks down at him as she lowers her body over his, wriggling against him and making him groan.

"If I'm a bad boy," he says, sounding rather breathless, "then you are definitely a bad girl."

"Mmm. But isn't it fun, being bad."

He chuckles. "Yes it is." He clasps her waist, then tumbles her over onto the bed and moves over her body.

"Spoilsport." She pouts up at him, and he laughs, then leans down to suck on her bottom lip, nipping gently at her flesh.

"Why am I spoilsport?" he asks when he draws back from her mouth.

"Because I want to ride you." His eyes go wide, and she asks, "What?" 

"It's just, well, I wasn't expecting that."

"Did you think I'd just lie here passively and let you have your wicked way with me?" He has the grace to look abashed by this question, and she snorts, "And you thought this because I am, of course, well known to be a meek, submissive woman?"

He starts to laugh. "You're right, that was foolish of me."

"Very," she observes dryly. "Now let me up, and get on your back."

"Yes, ma'am."

She smirks up at him, as she reaches out for his cock. "I think I shall begin by fellating you," she tells him. "Now lie back, like a good boy."

He shudders and she grins, unsurprised that her stern tone should cause such a reaction. The rest of the night is going to be very pleasurable, she decides, and lowers her head to take the tip of his cock into her mouth, taking satisfaction from the way James moans her name as she eases the hard length of his erection into her throat. Very pleasurable indeed.


End file.
